Susan Gillard - Raspberry Coulis Murder

Get Early Access to My Books For FREE!

Every two weeks youll get a new Cozy Novella from me absolutely FREE.

Sign up now! http://bit.ly/SusanDGillard

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright 2017 by Guardian Publishing Group - All rights reserved.

All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

Table of Contents

Ive got bad news. Amy unzipped her coat and fumbled it off. She tossed it onto the stool behind the counter in Donut Delights.

Oh boy, Heather replied, and slammed the registers drawer shut. The machine gave a ting. What kind of bad news? Missing coconut bad news or I Dave peed on your white carpets bad news?

Oh please, those carpets ceased to be white ages ago, Amy replied. She marched to the newspaper and magazine stand beside the counter and snatched a copy of the Hillside Reporter off the top rack.

Heather had installed the new fixture on the weekend, since itd make life for Eva easier, and shed noticed a lot of her Donut Delights customers enjoyed reading up on current events.

Or the best way to work off donut weight. Five healthy tips to combat a high-carb diet.

Amy walked back to Heather and clutched the folded paper to her chest. Im not even sure I should show you this, but I know Evas going to bring it up later.

Goodness, what is it? Youre making me nervous. The work day hadnt started yet, but the Hillside dawn had already broken. Yellow sunlight arced through the street outside and glimmered off the condensation on a car parked across the road.

Ames sighed and flipped the newspaper open. Okay, so remember how theyre calling you the Private Eye?

Yes, I do, dear Gal Pal, Heather said.

Dont get me started. Amy laid the paper flat on the counter and pointed at a feature piece spread across the center pages.

Heathers image peered up at them in black and white. She stood in front of Donut Delights in her apron, a proud grin on her face.

Except, the article headline wasnt about the bakery.

What on earth is this?

Amy fingered the words in bold print. Heather Shepherd, detective or vigilante?

I see that, she said, and leaned in to read. Heather Shepherd has long been considered one of Hillsides sweethearts, but an inside source tells this reporter that Mrs. Shepherds unorthodox methods have threatened numerous lives and businesses.

The kitchen doors swung outward and Ken stepped into the room, a tray laden with this weeks special donut in his hands. Is everything all right? He asked.

Im not sure, Heather said, and scanned the rest of newspaper. A few phrases jumped out at her, namely irresponsible and out of control. Oh boy. Who would write this?

Ken slid the glass door of the counter open, then eased the tray of donuts into its spot. The fruity scent of raspberries drifted up to Heathers nose, but she couldnt appreciate it.

A vigilante? She asked, and met her besties gaze. They make me sound like Batman.

You wish, Amy said.

What is this? Ken dusted his hands off on his apron and read over Heathers shoulder. Whoa. Somebody doesnt like you, boss. This guy called you a wannabe Sherlock Holmes. Thats a little harsh.

Heather blinked. Her investigations had been out of line in the beginning of her sleuthin career, but shed done nothing but worked with the Hillside police for months, now.

Even the Captain thought she had style, for heavens sake.

Boss, dont worry about this, Ken said, and patted her on the back. This is just some sour guy whos jealous of you. I mean, take a look at his name. He tapped the byline.

Kelly Lemon, Heather said.

Wait a second, Amy whispered. Wait one hot donut-lickin second. Thats the investigator guy. The dude from your last case. Uh, he was the private eye who came to Hillside to help out Camilla.

Looks like he never left, Ken said. Dont worry about this, boss. Everyone in Hillside knows the real you. They know better than to listen to the Hillside Reporter. Its a trash newspaper. A tabloid.

Thanks, Heather replied, though a puddle of guilt sat in the bottom of her stomach. She grabbed the newspaper and folded it down the middle then handed it back to Ames. I think its best we put this behind us and focus on making some great donuts today. There are bound to be loads of hungry customers.

Thats the spirit, Amy said. Ill beat Lemon over the head with a copy of the Reporter later. For now, well bake. Coffee?

Please, Heather said.

Ken shut the back of the glass counter and hurried back to the kitchen to fetch more treats.

Are you all right? Amy asked, and punched buttons on the coffee machine. She clanked the cups around on the grate.

Oh fine, Heather said. Im not worried about what a newspaper says about me as long as it doesnt affect the store. Or my family and friends. Whats the worst that could happen?

People talk about you behind your back, Amy said.

Truly terrifying, Heather replied, and bent to admire her newest creation. But Im fairly certain they do that already. Hillsides small town habits hadnt waned with the arrival of newcomers and tourists.

Whats the special donut today? Amy asked.

The Raspberry Coulis Donut, Heather said, and accepted a cup of steaming hot coffee from her bestie. Another vanilla batter, deep fried until crisp, injected with raspberry jelly and coated in a light raspberry glaze. Topped with vanilla sprinkles.

Oh wow, Amy said. My whole mouth just filled with saliva. Sounds a little sweet, though.

A little sweet for you? Doubtful, Heather replied, and took a sip of her coffee. She winked at Ames. A dash of vinegar to add that tart flavor to the jelly and were good to go. Ken and Jung came in early to learn the recipe, so theyll teach you once you get back there.

I cant wait, Amy said. She cleared her throat and glanced at the front door of the store. So, I, uh Heather?

Yeah?

Could we go to lunch today? Ive got something I wanted to ask you and I dont want to do it during work hours. Two pink spots appeared on the apples of Amys cheeks.

Goodness, what could the question be? Of course, Heather said. Lets do that new pizzeria down the street. The one that replaced Randys Burger Bar?

Bella Vita.

Thats the one. I hear its great. Heather offered her bestie a smile of encouragement, but Amys blush didnt fail.

This was bound to be an interesting day.

Heather squished into her seat in front of the melamine table and blinked in the dim light in the pizzeria.

Bella Vita had a rustic vibe, with wood paneled walls and antique pictures in gilt frames. It was a strange mix of old school Italian and walk-in diner.

Amy sat down opposite Heather and the plastic-covered booth seat squeaked. Here we are, she said, and wiped sweat from her brow. Gosh, what a morning. Ive never seen donuts fly out of the oven and into mouths that fast.

Business has certainly picked up, Heather replied, and tapped her nails on the table. The waiter hadnt approached them yet, though he stood behind the bar in the corner.

Amy sighed and balanced her chin in her palm. Im exhausted. I was up late last night studying. Ive got another one of those tests this week.

For your Private Investigator license? Heather asked. Of course, what else would it be for? Amy had been hard at work these past weeks, determined to join Heather as an assistant on crime scenes.